


Hurt

by AsexualDerek (Cammerel)



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Derek Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Derek, Hurt!Derek, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-14 23:51:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/842862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/AsexualDerek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles just wants to help, even if Derek doesn’t want him to. (Spoiler Warning for S3 E2)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> Season: After S3 E2.

After Derek had called out Peter to join him in setting up Boyd and Cora - Derek’s younger sister, apparently - chained in the basement of the Hale house, on lock down until the next morning, Stiles had decided to stay.

Scott was heading back to Deaton to be treated for his wounds and Isaac and Allison were joining Peter for watch duty, so Stiles was left to do what? Go home and pretend like nothing **insane** was going on? Leave Derek to come back to his loft, alone, in pain, to curl up in his misery?

Stiles didn’t like the thought, and he didn’t want to be alone either. So he stayed at the alpha’s house and waited, hands in his pockets, staring out the windows, knowing that somewhere out there, Derek was putting one of his pack to rest, and he was doing it on his own. It hurt to think about - how badly the alpha would blame himself for what had happened to Erica - but at least he wouldn’t come back to an empty, darkened loft.

The emotions warring inside of Derek were contradictory. On one hand, Cora was alive after he’d thought that she was dead for years, had even worked on accepting it, coming to terms with it. But on the other hand, Erica was gone, and though his bond with her hadn’t been quite as strong as the one he had with Cora - for obvious reasons - it still hurt, to have to lay her to rest and be the last one to see her.

The elevator motor whizzed and creaked as it lifted him up to the third floor, mind so frayed over the night’s events he didn’t hear the heartbeat until he was stepping into his loft. With worrying about Cora and Boyd, the last thing he wanted to do was put up with Stiles.

The alpha stalked into the open room and stopped by the table, crossing his arms as he looked at the younger man apathetically, “Stiles, go home.”

Stiles turned around and frowned when he saw the state Derek was in - covered from head to foot in gravel, dirt, blood, and probably a few other things, his shirt was in tatters, more or less, and he looked completely beaten. Stiles dropped his hands from his sides and moved to the older man, “What? No. I... I actually stayed here specifically.”

He touched Derek’s cheek and winced, “I’m not leaving you alone for the rest of the night, it’s not gonna happen, big guy, so don’t ask again.”

The energy it’d take to lift his arm and physically remove Stiles’s hand from his face wasn’t worth it, Derek had always been more of the ‘ignore the problem until it goes away’ type of person, anyway. With a put upon sigh, the alpha stared at the younger man and resigned to subtly shaking his head, “I don’t want your pity... Or sympathy,” He said bluntly, trying to make it as clear as possible.

He was tired, worn down both physically and emotionally, and he didn’t want to beat around the bush about things, “What I do want, is a scolding hot shower and to not think about what happened tonight. So, unless you can help with either of those things, you need to go home.”

“I can help with **both** of those,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes and ignoring Derek’s attitude, “Look, you don’t wanna move, I get that - you’re probably dog tired,” He punned, smiling slightly but not pausing, save for long enough to receive the glare from the alpha, “Let me help, okay? I’m full of energy, and I haven’t spent **any** of it.”

He stepped closer, taking the shoulder of the older man’s sleeve and carefully ripping it down across his chest and pushing the fabric from his body, “Just let me help, I wanna help, okay? Let me do... Something. And you don’t have to do a thing.”

Derek finally deflated, Stiles’s enthusiasm to help was too much to stand up to, even for an alpha. The eagerness to do something was practically pouring out of his pores. He pinched the bridge of his nose and growled, “Alright, just stop talking so much or I’ll **make** you go home.”

The younger man had wanted to help before, to go along, and he’d made it perfectly clear that it wasn’t going to happen, because he wasn’t going to put Stiles’s life at risk. The least he could do, now, would be to let the younger man help with something that wouldn’t put him in **immediate** danger, something as simple as _trying_ \- and failing - to soothe him, to make him feel better.

Stiles observed the scratches on Derek’s arm, narrowing his brows and swallowing sickly before reaching forward and unbuckling the alpha’s belt, tugging it through the loops and setting it on his bed, “Are those gonna heal on their own? I mean, they weren’t made by an alpha, but considering they didn’t change for four months, how long would it take?” He reached for Derek’s pants, unsnapping the button and sliding the zipper down as he stared into the older man’s eyes.

“I don’t know,” Derek replied honestly, voice only slightly softer than it’d been before and he shrugged, “I won’t know until I talk to Scott, again. I’m sure Deaton knows.” He stood still, eyes searching the younger man’s face as Stiles worked on his pants, exhaustion grabbing at his ankles and weighing him down. At this point, even breathing took too much effort.

“Hopefully,” Stiles said as he pushed the alpha’s pants down to his ankles, helping him out of them, with his shoes and socks, and leaving them there as he walked Derek back to the bathroom, turning the shower on before undressing himself.

His own clothes weren’t in tatters, so it actually took a moment to dress down, and finally he reached for Derek’s boxers and pushed them passed his thighs. Stiles took the older man’s wrist and tugged him under the water.

Derek followed Stiles numbly and exhaled after stepping in under the water, relieved almost as it sluiced down his body, tinging the water at their feet brown. Naturally, he’d been irritated with Stiles at first, but he was becoming increasingly thankful that the younger man had stayed. If he hadn’t, he probably would’ve just passed out on his bed, or he would’ve attempted to, anyways. The alpha settled a heavy hand on Stiles’s hip and tilted his head back under the spray, letting it run through his hair and down his face.

Stiles grinned, probably a bit stupidly, but mostly sadly, as he reached up and scratched his nails gently through Derek’s stubble, running his fingers over the older man’s skin to push the grime away. He was as careful as he could be, then began guiding the water through the alpha’s black hair, rubbing soothing circles into his scalp.

He stayed away from the water himself. He was about as clean as he could get, only having dressed down to avoid getting water on his clothes, really. But he didn’t pull from Derek’s touch, reveling in the simple rest of the larger man’s hand on his skin.

The alpha closed his eyes and reveled in the feel of Stiles’s fingertips along his skin and in his hair, palm clasping the younger man’s hip a little more firmly. They weren’t overly affectionate - or he wasn’t, rather - but that didn’t mean that he didn’t enjoy touching Stiles in turn, and feeling the younger man’s warm and unusually soft skin beneath his hand was settling.

Stiles winced as he wiped the blood from Derek’s cheekbone, moving forward to look at it closely, “Shampooing your hair is gonna suck, maybe we can sit you down so it doesn’t get in the cuts, that’s the worst. And you’ve got some pretty bad ones, maybe it’s just best that we avoid as much pain as we can,” He tugged Derek down, “Come on, I’ll help you back up.”

“Stiles-“ Derek groaned in protest, but his knees buckled, so he ended up on his ass, regardless. “A little bit of pain would’ve been nothing,” He complained, running his palm from his forehead to the back of his head, “I think I can handle a little bit of shampoo in a cut.”

“Stop complaining,” Stiles said as he sat as well, his chest to Derek’s shoulder blades, his knees on either sides of the alpha’s outer thighs. He reached out for the shampoo, lathering it in his hands before scrabbling it through the older man’s hair, “Every time you complain about something I do, you go along with it anyways, or you punch me - which I still think you should apologize for, that wasn’t really nice of you. The whole charade thing is cute until you try to break one of my bones.”

“I was proving a point,” Derek grumbled, letting his eyelids close shut as Stiles scrubbed his scalp, “I’m not going to apologize for that. If I were trying to break your bones, they’d be broken.” He tilted his head back a little to make it easier on Stiles, right hand resting on the younger man’s knee.

Stiles lifted a brow, “Don’t make me poke something that hurts, because I’ll do it,” He really wouldn’t, and Derek could probably hear the lie, but he continued on, conditioning the older man’s hair and following up with the body wash.

He avoided the cuts, but made sure to squeeze every bit of gravel from the creases of Derek’s hands, and even cleaning under his nails. Once he was done there, he soaped up the werewolf’s chest, palms running over everything, pressing into the skin and massaging the expanse of Derek’s torso, followed by his back and his legs.

Derek kind of felt like a child, just sitting there and letting Stiles essentially pamper him, but his limbs ached and everything he did hurt. His whole body was practically one big gaping sore, so that’s how he justified it, because normally he wasn’t so dependent. He tried to enjoy it for what it was and sighed his contentment with Stiles’s hands working to scrub him down, “I just really wanna sleep,” He admitted, knowing he probably wouldn’t be able to.

“Let me bandage these up first, I doubt you wanna get blood on your bed,” Stiles turned off the water finally, helping Derek from the shower and walking him back out into the main room.

He sat the older man down and moved to the cabinet in the bathroom, pulling out the dinky little first aid kit he’d convinced Derek to keep not too long ago when Stiles had busted a toenail walking up the spiral staircase. He walked back out, shamelessly naked, and took the seat beside the alpha.

Stiles popped the box open and started sifting through it, “you want me to get you a change of clothes after this? Sleep wear, maybe?”

Derek fell back against the mattress and stared up at the ceiling of his loft, shrugging his shoulders the best he could, “If you don’t mind, just boxers is fine.” He rested his hand on his stomach and rolled his head to the side to look at Stiles, “You really don’t need to bandage anything.” Band aids and gauze made him feel week and vulnerable, something he wasn’t, regardless of how bad he hurt.

“Just the arm, at **least** that,” Stiles said, maneuvering around the older man’s body now that he was laying down, which was an inconvenience. He patched it up firmly, checking over the rest of the alpha’s form to make sure that there wasn’t something he was overlooking, “And no, I don’t mind, I don’t mind any of this, what I would’ve minded was you having to do it alone.”

He met the older man’s eyes, leaning up to dab at the beading blood on his face with a little square of gauze, “I’ll go get you some boxers,” He said, standing back up again.

Derek winced when Stiles dabbed at his cheek and then propped himself up on his elbows, watching Stiles as he walked away. Their relationship was fairly new, but he knew he’d never be able to put into words just how thankful he was for the kid’s presence half the time - even if he was generally annoying and running his mouth.

Stiles returned quickly with a pair of boxers, pushing Derek’s chest to keep him down, even when he protested. He helped the older man into them and patted his hip when he was done, leaning up to finally press a short, chaste kiss to Derek’s lips before he stood, taking up the first aid kit and walking back into the bathroom. He put it away, dressing back in his own clothes, grabbing Derek’s other boxers from the bathroom floor and joining them with his jeans.

“You want me to turn out the light?” He asked, helping Derek to lay completely on the bed.

Derek got situated and pulled the comforter up over his hips, licking his lips in an attempt to taste what was left of the other man lingering, “Yeah,” He answered, and frowned as his eyes raked down over Stiles’s fully clothed body.

“Are you going home, now?” The alpha asked tiredly, resting his head on his biceps and the pillow.

“No, you idiot,” Stiles turned the light out and walked back across in the dark, taking the seat on the bed by Derek and folding his legs as he watched the alpha, “What’s the point in leaving if I resisted leaving thirty minutes before?”

“I was just asking,” Derek growled, feeling insanely relieved that Stiles wasn’t leaving, “You put all your clothes back on, I just assumed.”

He pulled the comforter back on the other side of the bed, tugging it out from underneath of Stiles’s ass and gave the younger man a pointed look. If he was going to stay, he really didn’t want him sitting perched on the bed, keeping an eye on him all night.

Stiles shrugged, “Yeah, well, I figured washing you and bandaging you was already pushing my luck with things. I dunno, I don’t...” He took a breath and laid down, keeping a bit of distance between them as he met Derek’s eyes, “Some times you get really distant and I’m not sure what’s okay and what isn’t. And we don’t really do the-” He motioned between them, “ _This_.”

Derek stared back at Stiles and tried to think of what to say, knowing he couldn’t say what he wanted to say. He wanted to avoid an argument, if at all possible. The alpha wet his lips and blinked slowly, “Do you not want to?” He asked, unsure of what he was actually asking. Stiles had stayed to try and make him feel better, and with the younger man pointing out how distant he got and things they didn’t do, he couldn't help but feel a little worse than he already had.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Stiles smiled wide, “Stiles doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do. Well, not when no one’s telling him otherwise. Of course I wanna stay, are you kidding? I don’t wanna be alone right now, and I don’t wanna be with anyone else. And I get it all, I understand, I can respect the distance. Doesn’t mean I don’t want more, but I’m perfectly content with this.”

Derek wasn’t really sure what it said about him that he couldn’t manage to return the younger man’s smile, even though he wanted to, because god damn it was infectious. He shifted to his side and rested his arm up under the pillow as he stared at Stiles.

“Come here,” The alpha said quietly, patting the area just next to him.

Stiles moved in tentatively, even with Derek’s instruction to do so, he was hesitant, but he still did it. He wasn’t sure how close the older man wanted him to be, or what he wanted Stiles to do or say, but he laid his head down, staring into Derek’s eyes as he reached up and touched the alpha’s biceps.

Derek’s gaze flitted down to the younger man’s lips and he leaned in to press a short, chaste kiss to his mouth, hand on Stiles’s hip. He turned him around then and pulled Stiles’s smaller body to his chest, lips resting on the nape of the younger man’s neck.

“Thank you,” The alpha murmured, securing his arm around his waist to keep him close.

“Any time, you know it,” Stiles said, looking down at the arm around him and he smiled at the touch of lips on his neck, “Even when you don’t want me here,” He ran his fingers over Derek’s soft arm hairs.

“ **Especially** when you don’t want me here. That’s what I’m for, right?”

Derek hummed his agreement into Stiles’s skin and closed his eyes, content to have a body to curl himself around. It was likely the most intimate they’d ever been, but he needed it, and he was fairly certain that Stiles did too - even if it was only just some sort of confirmation that he did, in fact, care.


End file.
